


Life Lessons

by Nitrobot



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Beast Wars
Genre: Embarrassment, F/M, First Time, Masturbation Interruptus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 13:07:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6117388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitrobot/pseuds/Nitrobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Transmutate discovers something new about her body while Rampage is away- and he walks in on her in the middle of "discovering".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> I don't actually know much about these two beyond the original Beast Wars show, but they're hella cute together so I'm making shit up as I go along  
> (The version of Transmutate I'm using is not her normal Beast Wars form, rather it's more like a silver and blue Arcee repaint).
> 
> EDIT: I accidentally called Transmutate "Transmetal" first time around, because Beast Wars wasn't kind to me and I'm a moron like that.

True to his name, Rampage almost tore the tin-sheet door off its hinges when he finally reached home base. He threw the few measly cubes of energon he managed to bargain for in a corner while his other servo of claws massaged thick grooves into his forehelm, vainly trying to curb the pounding pain cocooning his processor. Rational thought struggled through a haze of fury, and his chest swelled as it shrouded his spark. He slammed his back against a rock wall, sinking to the floor with a strangely soothing screech of metal on granite.

Only after the ache calmed down to a simmer throb did he swipe his palm over the rest of his faceplate, settling on his mandibles to stop them scraping together. The whole journey back he'd been imagining clamping them around the helm of the fuel trader that decided an entire drum of scrap was only worth three cubes. The only thing that stopped him relishing in the blessed warm gush of fresh energon on his glossa was that he was the only trader for miles, not to mention the only one willing to barter with techno-organics.

Besides, he couldn't get hunted down for losing his temper, no matter how tenuous his grasp on it was, at some faceless fuel peddler. Transmutate needed him here, and she wouldn't want him like this.

 _‘One… two… three…’_ His vents emptied in time with each number as he counted them, trying to drown the persistent ache of anger in the safety of monotony. He reached nine, and blazing green optics closed over only to snap wide again at a chilling sound in a familiar tone; a whimper just ahead, beyond the rattling stairs that led to the second level. Exactly where he'd left Transmutate before departing. 

He was on his peds in a nanoklick and leaping up to the ajar door in even less than that. As he pulled himself up the door itself was wrenched against its hinges, and was left clinging onto its only unbroken one. 

“Transmutate!” Rampage’s vocaliser throbbed with an anxious snarl as he braced himself against the empty frame, barely holding back from lunging into the dim room he shared with the femme he so loved. But whatever his paranoia had him expecting, an intruding Insecticon standing over her corpse or something equally spark-destroying, was shoved aside by what he actually saw through optics reduced to a dim jade smoulder.

Transmutate lay back on her berth, completely unharmed to his relief, and had a set of digits pressed determinedly into the open, very wet mesh of her valve, to his absolute humiliation. Though she noticed him standing there, she made no effort to retract her hand or put her panel back in place. She only looked at him blankly, winglets fluttering innocently while Rampage tried to steer his optics anywhere that wasn't between her spread legs.

“Oh… I-I, uh… thought something was wrong…” As his vocaliser struggled he inclined his helm towards the floor, already leaning towards the exit to escape his shame. The burning crimson in his cheeks was still obvious, but thankfully more so than the pressure building behind the guard of his codpiece.

“I didn’t hear you coming back…  
why are you blushing?” Transmutate asked, in a voice much quieter than even the soft lilt she usually had. Rampage tried to dismiss the ragged edges to it, ones that were ripped from her gentle gasps as her fingers still probed her nodes with a very distinctive squish.

“Um, well, cause… I didn't mean to catch you like this,” the mech tried, and hopelessly failed, to explain without stuttering through a plume of static.

“Like what?” Transmutate asked again with eyeridges furrowed into curious lines, and only then did her servo snap away from her thighs as if they were scalding. “Am I doing something bad?” Her lips quivered with the light of her wide optics, her winglets fell, and she closed her legs with hands on her ankles. It was the same pose she affected when she thought she'd taken his berth, and when she watched him get by on only half an energon cube after she'd guzzled through two full ones. A sparkling’s innocence somehow distilled into a fully grown femme. It was the whole reason Rampage had held back from trying to court her, despite how his already rending spark almost consumed itself in its own fire. Especially now, given a lingering glimpse of what he was missing.

It was the singeing of his cracked chamber that forced him back through the doorway, picking his way slowly over to her who his spark contained only itself and the never ending rage in its core for.

“No, no, it's not like that. You haven't done anything wrong,” he assured, more comfortable with coming closer now that she wasn't completely exposed. Even so, he could see glinting stains of lavender lube on her fingers and trembling thighs. Her lips stopped wobbling, but now she was determined to avert her guilty gaze as he sat beside her. The berth bowed under his weight, metal struts protesting, but it settled as if from Rampage’s own willpower.

“Have you ever done… that before?” he asked. Sitting up with her helm pushed down towards her chest, her neck couldn't shake very effectively.

“No… but I was missing you, and there was this… warm feeling, right here.” She pointed at the space over her valve, and Rampage had to struggle all over again not to stare. “And my panel came away and… it felt nice when I touched it. And wet for some reason. But the more I touched, the nicer it felt, and the more I thought of you…” She trailed off into a string of sniffled shaky vents, and her helm dipped even more to hide the coolant welling in her optics.

“Don't cry, Transmutate, please,” Rampage hushed with not even an ambient growl, tilting her helm up with a single claw and brushing the flat blade of another against her warm, damp cheeks. “There's nothing wrong with doing that. It's completely normal. Lots of femmes do it.”

She blinked the rest of her tears away, and her vocaliser seemed to soothe from his tender touch. She was the only one who would ever feel it from him. “But… what _is_ it?” she asked.

Rampage’s mandibles clicked to cover his hesitation, and he let go of Transmutate’s helm with a sigh. “Do you know anything about interface?”

Her optics flicked up as she thought, taking a few nanoklicks for the slow process, before she shook her helm.

‘ _Oh, boy…’_

“Alright, then…” Rampage tried to clear his vocaliser and gather his wayward thoughts, walling off the more energon-soaked parts of it for now. Eventually he found a place to start that wouldn't drown him in self consciousness. “Interface is something a mech and femme can do with each other, where they… put their equipment together.” His digits pulled against each other, wringing themselves to distract him from the heat boiling in his faceplate. “A mech’s spike goes into the femme's valve- that's what you were touching, your valve. It makes them both feel good, just like how you were feeling before. Understand?” He only went on when she gave her small nod, and his optics only flicked to her long enough to see it. “And some bots have a need for feeling good, but interface isn't always possible. So… they can just do it themselves. Self servicing. That's what you were doing.” He exhaled, spanning his digits wide and placing them down in the berth before turning to face her again. Her optics pointed somewhere else, but she was giving more small nods of a slow understanding crawling over her processor.

“Do you do it sometimes, Rampage?” she asked less meekly. The question caught him so off guard that he had to chuckle.

“Not for… not for a while, I haven't,” he answered, though he could have had a whole harem at his service and still felt little else but fury in his idle spark.

Her winglets twitched as she tilted her helm in evident confusion. “Why not?”

Rampage chewed at the inside of his mouth to stop his denta grinding, and rolled his shoulders in a shrug. There was only one answer he was willing to give to her. “I've been busy. I haven't had the chance to.”

Transmutate watched him place his fiddling hands over the crest of his codpiece, and averted her gaze guiltily all over again as if she could sense the constant ache behind it that plagued him. “Busy looking after me, you mean…” she mumbled.

“Don't say that, Transmutate,” Rampage soothed, automatically placing a hand on her knee and rubbing circles around the blade jutting put of it. “I _like _caring for you. I like making you happy. I smile when you do.” He kept his optics focused on her, waiting for her own to flick up and see his mandibles tilted outwards. She always smiled at that, and even now was no exception.__

__“Thank you, Rampage,” she whispered, closing her optics to tiny slits of red light._ _

__Brushing one of the silver pincers against her helm, Rampage patted her knee and lifted himself up from the berth. “There's energon cubes out front if you feel low on fuel.” But as he turned to leave, there was a tight hold on his wrist from tiny fingers._ _

__“Don't go just yet!” Transmutate cried with winglets flared in alarm. “Please…” Her hand only fell off his own, digits slipping together, when he reseated himself next to her with a cautious green gaze. She rearranged herself, legs folded underneath her and hands folded on top of her open panel._ _

__“You said… a mech and femme can do it, right? Interface?” she asked._ _

__“I did,” Rampage replied after a pause, and the inferno of his spark could already feel what was coming before his processor realised it._ _

__Transmutate bit down on her lip, sliding one of her hands closer to him as if craving the heat of his protoform. “Well… can't we interface?” As quiet as the request was, Rampage almost didn't hear it over the rush of energon in his audios and the echo from his chamber. He only ever dared to imagine it, not trusting himself to rein his rabid spark in should the chance ever give itself to him. Though his internals were a frenzy, outside he was frozen solid._ _

__The nanoklicks of stunned silence made Transmutate retreat into herself again. “Only… if you want to, I mean…” she mumbled, folding her winglets closer to her body as if cocooning herself in them._ _

__Rampage inhaled, letting the scents filling his vents wrap around him properly. The hard edge of rust in the air, his own internals burning, and the currents of fresh air that seemed to constantly surround Transmutate. The more he lost himself to his senses, drowning out the hot anger seeped into his struts, the more he noticed the tell-tale musk underlying her clean scent. She was still aroused after all this, just from talking and opening herself to him. Yet though his instincts screamed at him to satisfy her, Rampage still held himself back with quickly fading control over his processor._ _

__“Are you sure, Transmutate?” he asked past a feral lump growing in his throat, rumbling softly as she pulled herself closer to him._ _

__And she nodded, pressed her helm into his neck and driving him over the edge with the gentle tickle of her vents on his cables. “I wouldn't want to with anyone else. I want to make you as happy as you make me.” Now she was straddling him, and he could feel the warmth billowing from her interface, skimming so teasingly against his pulsing codpiece. Rampage tried not to moan as he tilted her helm up again, seeing her optics glowing like red stars; supernovas bursting with so much trust and love that he didn't deserve._ _

__If interface was how he could repay her for being with him, then who was he to deny her? His mandibles parted, revealing a much smaller and scarred mouth that pressed its ragged lips against hers so smooth and flawless. Such an innocent union between them, yet one he'd been waiting for since taking her under his guard._ _

__“You always make me happy, sweetspark.” Brushing his claws against her chin, he breathed against her lips when they eventually pulled away from his- only for them to come crashing back together as Transmutate launched herself at him._ _


End file.
